


Diamond Heart

by PennyKelly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Clubbing, Dancing, F/F, Healing, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 09:38:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15992552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PennyKelly/pseuds/PennyKelly
Summary: Romilda returned from America after the war unsure of how to find herself outside the trauma. She didn't expect to find the love of her life watching her from the club floor as she performed in front of a packed nightclub. Tonight is her last night and she's ready to move on.





	Diamond Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sing-Me-A-Rare Vol.2.  
> Song Prompt - Diamond Heart, Lady Gaga.

“Get a good look ladies and gentlemen, this is Diamond Heart’s last night with us here at The Gilded Cage! Our favourite spitfire is moving onto bigger and better things!” Dean Thomas’ voice came loud and clear over the music, even with the groans and disappointed boos that followed. 

 

Romilda adjusted the black crystal encrusted push-up bra that was the focal piece of her clubwear for the evening. The tiny heart-shaped stones glinted and refracted light like diamond chips under the laser lights and strobes, charmed to sparkle brighter than her body glitter. She was the epitome of a good girl gone bad in her old school skirt, shortened indecently so every swirl of her hips flipped it up to show off the sparkly bikini bottoms underneath. She had foregone the fur boots favoured by her coworkers, preferring knee boots and fishnets for her routines. 

 

Her muscles her warm now and ready to go, the reverberation of the music in the room above her making her bounce impatiently in anticipation. She double checked that her mask was charmed on correctly, in the last year she’d never had a single patron figure out who the girl in the golden mask was. Except one, but that had been a different story altogether. She took a deep breath and plastered on a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Even after so many months of doing this, she was still all nerves before a show. She rolled her shoulders and stepped onto the platform, shaking out her mane of curls as she locked herself onto the silks and was lifted through the floor into the club above. 

 

Unlike the other go-go dancers in the club, she’d spent some time in America after Hogwarts and had lived in Muggle San Francisco for a time. A woman she’d met there introduced her to go-go dancing as a means of supporting herself. As it turned out, Romilda was quite good at it. She’d learned silks, pole dancing, and fire spinning while she’d tried to escape the trauma of war and the assault that had come with it. The acrobatics and seemingly dangerous tricks she could pull off without the assistance of magic never failed to wow the Wizarding London crowds. She’d made hundreds of dollars per night just dancing on stages or in a cage until she started to miss home. Back in Wizarding London, she was making twice what she had before with the use of a levitating cage and the room for aerial silks Muggle clubs couldn’t provide. 

 

She hadn’t quite found herself in America as she’d hoped, or escaped the horrible nightmares that had followed her after a Death Eater had forced himself on her. What had helped her, was the woman she knew would be hovering not far from Dean, keeping herself out of the spotlight but close enough to it she that she could watch her lover do her thing. The woman would become a trauma specialist after the war, the one who didn’t care if Romilda was flawless. 

 

When she’d first returned home, she hadn’t been entirely surprised to find Dean Thomas owned a nightclub, though his business partners in Draco and Astoria Malfoy had surprised her some. Astoria, it turned out, had an eye for talent when it came to dancers and had insisted on hiring Romilda straight out of her audition. She was the one that insisted masking Romilda would create a buzz that would get more bodies in the club to see her perform. As the months had passed, it was Astoria who pushed for her to be allowed to perform her aerial, fire, and acrobatic skills in addition to her go-go dancing. She could still remember how her blood pumped that first night. 

 

Her cage came out without her, rising to the center point higher than usual, confusing the regulars who liked the wild-haired woman with the big, dark eyes that danced harder than any other woman in the club. No one had noticed her appear in the middle of the floor until the silks had shot out from the bars above and she’d begun her climb and arranged herself into the birdcage posture that started the routine. After that, the roar of applause and voices had nearly drowned out the music completely. She still wasn’t sure she’d hit all her time counts that night, but she knew the inversions and flips had floored the audience. When she’d been set safely back to the floor, out of breath and smiling like a mad woman, she’d met the person that would become her everything. 

 

In the craziness of bodies pushing in around her, a familiar set of brown eyes had found hers, leaning in closely and asking “Do you have a girlfriend?” Romilda had shaken her head and said nothing, unsure if she wanted the beautiful Ravenclaw she’d known in youth to know who she was. 

 

The next week, she’d done a fire spinning routine that singed holes in her fishnets and glinted dangerously off the crystals on her bra. The heart shapes amplified to such an extent Dean Thomas had started calling her Diamond Heart when he introduced her. That time she’d locked eyes with the young woman as she’d come down off the platform she’d remembered her name. Padma Patil. 

 

It would take a few more trips before the persistent little thing would convince her to forego filling her head with Jameson at the end of her shift and at least talk to her for a few moments. Standing in the rain in the alleyway behind the club that night, Romilda had removed her mask and let Padma see who she was for the first time. Without hesitation, the twin of one of her former best mates had leaned in and kissed her soundly.

 

Over late-night fish and chips, Romilda had remet Padma Patil who she now knew tasted like strawberries. She had never known that Padma might fancy women. She’d only ever known her to be interested in Ron Weasley. Then again, no one had known Romilda was bisexual either because of her fixation on Harry. Who would have guessed the Padma would start a flurry of butterflies in her stomach worse than any Harry had ever caused.

 

They’d moved in together quickly, setting up silks for Romilda to practice on in their open concept loft. As she worked on polishing her skills and invented new routines to wow the easily bored crowds the club attracted, Padma would sit and watch with a mug of tea and a soft smile on her face. She rarely attended the club now, staying home and waiting for her girlfriend to come home. She’d meet her with a pot of balm to work into her tired muscles after a long night and the softest lips and hands she’d ever felt against her skin. Romilda was insanely grateful every time she rolled over in the morning and saw the long, silky locks of the love of her life. The strong, brave, beautiful, intelligent woman that had convinced her she was perfect in all her imperfections. 

 

Tonight she knew after she’d spit the last bit of fire and untangled herself from the silks, she’d slip backstage and find Padma waiting for her there. To kiss away the fears of leaving her job and soothe her worried mind. She’d hold Romilda close and whisper encouraging things in her ear. Then, they’d apparate home and Romilda would worship at her feet. Tasting every inch of her and breathing her in, losing her old self totally as she found herself again in the other woman. And in the morning, Diamond Heart would be no more and Romilda would just be Romilda. They’d begin the journey of figuring out who that was and how she fit in this post-war world. She was done running and dancing and fire spinning her fears away, it was time to confront them head-on. 

 

As she locked herself into position on the silks and they began to raise her out of the floor, Romilda let herself appreciate the anticipatory nervousness one last time. She couldn’t wait for tomorrow. 

  
  



End file.
